by Cat Johnson
Chris might talk slow, but his mind was sharp as a tack. He watched Rick through narrowed eyes as he asked, “What’s wrong?”
All right. This was it. Rick drew in a deep breath and said, “We broke up.”
Three little words. Not the three he wanted to be saying.
He would have far rather told them he’d come home to grab his grandmother’s ring. The one he kept stashed in a box in the corner of his gun safe here at the house.
Unfortunately, today’s three little words were not I’m getting married. He only wished they were.
Darci reacted about as expected. Quick and loud and with a lot of questions.
Chris’s only reaction was a slight lift of a brow, and then he was on his way to the liquor cabinet. Without asking he bent and grabbed a bottle from inside. He planted it on the coffee table on his way to the kitchen cabinet where he grabbed two short glasses.
Yeah. This might be the perfect spot for Rick to recover.
He hurt like hell. He wanted to punch something—or maybe shoot at something—and then drink until he could fall to sleep without thoughts of her torturing his brain. He could do all of those things right here.
Chris handed Rick one of the glasses before he reached out and laid one hand on Darci’s shoulder.
She’d stalked in from the kitchen, dishtowel still in hand, and was demanding answers.
“Give him a minute, darlin’,” Chris said.
She glanced between Rick and her husband and then finally nodded.
Wow. Rick had always assumed no one would ever be able to silence his sister, but apparently Chris could. Miracles did happen.
Maybe there was hope for a miracle for him too.
Perhaps he would completely forget about Sierra Cox, aka Carey Jones, and be able to live a normal life again like he had been before her. B.C.—Before Carey.
“So the gun range just added late night hours seven days a week. We should go.” Chris’s suggestion, subtle but obvious at the same time, told Rick he was there for him whenever he needed.
For whatever he needed too, whether that was blowing holes in some paper targets at the range, or getting shit-faced on the bottle in front of them on the table.
“Yeah. That’d be good.” Rick lifted the glass to his lips and let the whisky burn a path down to his fractured heart.
Friends, family and some fine whisky—it might take a while, but he’d be all right. Eventually.
The television was on, as was usual in Darci’s house.
Some entertainment show was playing. One of those Hollywood-type programs that focused on movie stars and gossip.
He was used to tuning out the white noise of the television, but he’d had more than enough of Hollywood to last him a lifetime.
Rick didn’t need the reminder following him home too. He stood to grab the remote on the other end of the table so he could change the channel, or at least mute the damn sound.
The remote was in his hand when he heard it. Her voice.
Sierra.
She was standing outside in the sun, familiar sunglasses hiding her eyes as the show’s host asked her questions about the film.
From his place in the chair, Chris mumbled the exact curse Rick had been thinking himself.
Fuck.
As his heart clenched and his stomach twisted, Rick eyed the bottle. He was going to need a bigger glass.
CHAPTER 18
Frowning, Jamey glanced at the deceivingly slim but fit guy dressed in black from head-to-toe as he stood in the hallway just outside the Green Room at the network’s Time Square studio.
Sierra braced herself for the inevitable question.
“Where’s Rick?” Jamey asked once they were both in the room alone and the bodyguard was outside the closed door.
She and Jamey had arrived in New York on different flights and this was the first time they’d been together since leaving Hollywood, so he wasn’t aware of the change in her security detail . . . or her relationship status.
“He, uh, no longer handles my security.”
Jamey’s brows drew lower. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, visibly torn about what to say.
She decided to help him out. “Yes, we broke up.”
He nodded. “You need to talk?”
“No.” Talking was the last thing she needed.
In fact, if she could get out of doing this press tour and go hide in her house in Miami and not talk to anyone for the next two months or so, she’d would.
As it stood, her press obligations were clearly spelled out in her contract for this film, so she’d carry on.
Thank God she and Rick had never gone public with their relationship. Only a few people on set knew they’d dated or she’d have questions from every reporter she saw.
Lips pressed tight, Jamey gave the door that hid the bodyguard in the hall a quick glance. “He doesn’t look like Rick.”
Sierra couldn’t help but laugh.
That had been her first thought too, right before she was grateful for that fact. She didn’t need his doppelganger shadowing her as a reminder he was gone. She had the dull ache in her chest for that.
“Don’t worry about me. I have it on good authority he’s more than capable of handling any trouble,” she assured Jamey.
She’d gotten that same assurance from Jon on the phone, right before he’d told her that not all SEALs were as big as Rick.
Apparently Rick had handed filling her security needs over to his friend. Being Rick was always such a control freak about handling her security personally, she’d been surprised when Jon had contacted her.
Though maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised. She’d said she wanted a clean break. Rick was giving her just that.
So why did she feel so disappointed when Jon’s number kept appearing on her cell phone instead of Rick’s?
Jamey was still quietly watching her. She could see his mind spinning with all the questions he was holding back.
“Do we have a script of what we’re going to say about the Navy SEAL angle during the interviews?” Jamey finally asked. “They might show the footage from Coronado.”
“They might. Or at least part of the scenes you shot on San Clemente Island. But why would we need a script?”
“What if they ask where we got two dozen Navy SEALs from?” Jamey asked, eyes wide.
She shrugged. “There’s nothing to explain. We had a military contact who arranged it.”
“Okay.” He pressed his lips together again. Standing next to the juice and coffee set up in the room, he held a cup in his hand but didn’t pour anything into it. “Um, can I ask you something?”
They might as well get this conversation over with since she could see he wasn’t going to let it drop. “Sure.”
“If I asked Rick to train me, do you think he’d agree? You know, like real Navy SEAL training. I’m reading some war movie scripts and trying to choose my next project.”
She almost laughed at that. Of all the questions she’d been expecting, that was not one of them.
Relieved, she said, “I don’t know. You could ask him.”
Jamey wrinkled his nose. “One more question.”
Sierra sighed. “Okay.”
“Would that be a problem for you, if I brought him back out to LA?”
Her heart sped at the thought of being in the same city as Rick again. It seemed easier to be apart with a country between them, but if he was right there, just a cab ride away . . . How would she feel?
It didn’t matter. They were done and it would be selfish of her to stop Rick from working wherever he wanted. She had to admit he was good on set, both as a consultant and on camera.
“No. No problem at all,” she answered, hating how her pulse quickened at the idea of accidentally running into Rick again. “You should call him if that’s what you want.”
Jamey pressed his lips together, looking once again like he had something to say. Finally, he said, “I would, but I don’t hav
e his phone number.”
She didn’t know how Rick felt, but apparently the bromance between him and Jamey was still going strong as far as Jamey was concerned.
Squashing the envy that Jamey was going to get to talk to him, when Rick obviously didn’t want to talk to her, she held out her hand. “Give me your cell. I’ll put in his number for you.”
One of Rick’s security mandates had been that she had to memorize all important numbers and not depend on the saved contacts in her phone.
She still knew his number by heart, which meant it had done nothing when she’d deleted his name from her contacts list. She could still be tempted to call or text him in a moment of weakness . . . and there had definitely been weak moments the past couple of weeks.
And now she was giving Jamey the means to bring Rick back to Hollywood, right where she was going to be for the movie premiere, and for more press interviews and then when they started shooting the new film.
But she was probably being foolish even thinking there was a chance she could run into Rick again. He was probably already busy working for Jon. He could be overseas for all she knew.
Besides, there was no way Rick would come back to Hollywood. He hated it there.
Confident, she handed the cell back to Jamey. “Here you go.”
“Thanks,” he said, staring down the phone.
“No problem.” Since he had yet to pour himself coffee, she moved between him and the coffee pot and got herself a cup.
Sleep had been hard for her lately and she felt it now as jet lag made the New York-based morning talk show feel even earlier.
“I’m sorry you broke up with him,” Jamey said, glancing up at her. “You two were good together.”
She lifted her brows. “How do you know I broke up with him and not the other way around?”
Jamey let out a sniff. “It was obvious he was head over heels for you.”
Meaning it wasn’t obvious that she loved him back? How could Jamey think that?
Of course, she had been the one who’d insisted they keep their relationship secret. But she’d let Rick go so he could be happy. She’d made that sacrifice for him because she cared about him.
Why didn’t Jamey believe she had loved Rick as much as he loved her? She was about to ask when the door opened.
A young woman who had intern written all over her energetic face said, “You two are on next.”
Jamey smiled at the girl. “Thanks.” He turned and looked at Sierra. “Ready?”
Not at all. She’d never been less ready for a live interview in her life.
She drew in a breath and tossed the untouched coffee into the trash. Forcing a smile she didn’t feel she said, “Ready.”
CHAPTER 19
Deja vu was a horrible thing. It reminded Rick that he’d been here before. He’d taken a giant step backward in his life and landed right back where he’d started.
As Rick sat on the sofa, miserable, it could have easily been two years ago. Back when Chris and Darci had first started dating and he’d started to feel like an outsider in his own home. Then, and now, he sat in the living room and braced for when Chris and Darci would start knocking their headboard against the wall again.
Apparently marriage hadn’t slowed down that activity any, as evidenced by what he’d heard last night from his bed.
Actually, he was worse off than he’d been back when he’d lived here. Then at least he’d had a good job at the nuclear reactor. He might have hated it, but at least he had it.
Yeah, he could ask Jon to assign him something, but he hadn’t done it yet. He wasn’t exactly sure why not, although he suspected he knew.
Somewhere inside him there was the hope that Sierra would change her mind. Come to her senses, call him and beg him to come back.
Hope sucked.
He needed to move on. He would. Eventually.
Glancing outside, Rick saw the sun had finally risen.
Why was he awake at the crack of dawn when his body should still be on California time and he had nothing else to do but sleep?
He knew the answer to that too.
It was because he’d never really gotten to sleep last night. Tossing and turning and watching the numbers change on the damn clock was an exercise in futility.
It was less frustrating to just get up. There was the ever present hope that television would distract him. Besides, the crack of dawn might be the only opportunity he’d get to control the remote.
Once Darci got up, she’d claim the remote and since this was technically her house and he hadn’t lived or paid bills here for over two years, he wouldn’t be able to argue.
The big screen on the wall came to life and an early morning talk show came one. He was about to surf the channels for something more interesting when the host said, “Next up, Sierra Cox and Jamey Garret.”
Rick froze. He had the means to change the channel right in his hand. Unfortunately he didn’t seem to have the will. Instead, he sat there through the commercial break, waiting.
Seeing her, hearing her, was going to hurt like hell.
He knew that yet he waited anyway, literally on the edge of his seat, leaning forward on the sofa cushion as if that would bring him closer to where she was in the studio in New York.
Pitiful.
Finally the commercial break ended and the show returned. With a burst of applause, Jamey and Sierra walked out, waving and holding hands.
Rick drew in a breath in an attempt to calm himself.
There’s nothing going on between them.
As he watched, his gaze zeroed in on where Jamey touched Sierra, Rick repeated the sentence to himself over and over again.
Still, the doubts crept in.
Was that why she’d sent him away? Because she did have feelings for Jamey?
There was a lot of hugging and kissing as the two show hosts greeted the two movie stars.
Finally, they were all seated again and the interview began with the usual mundane questions.
What had the stars had been up to since arriving in New York? Did they get to take in any Broadway shows or try any restaurants? How were they handling the rainy weather in the city after being in the perfect weather of Los Angeles for so long filming?
A few of those questions cut Rick to the core. He and Sierra had planned on doing just that—seeing some shows and having dinner while in the city.
The only thing that made him feel moderately better was her saying that she’d arrived late the night before and hadn’t seen anything except the limo and the hotel.
The show cut to commercial again, leaving him hanging.
His heart pounded as the minutes ticked by agonizingly slowly. Just when he thought he’d lose his mind if he saw one more ad, the show’s music returned.
“Good morning,” Darci’s voice behind him had Rick waving one hand at her.
“Shh!” he said, without looking at her.
“What’s—Oh.” She came and sat next to him on the sofa, her eyes glued to the same thing Rick’s were—Sierra.
“So, there were some pretty steamy love scenes between you two,” one co-host said.
“Oh, yeah. The clip I saw was so hot I needed a smoke after watching you two in bed,” the other host agreed amid laughter from the audience.
Sierra smiled and shook her head. “That’s all the magic of the movies. You wouldn’t think it was so sexy if you were there on set.”
“True,” Jamey agreed. “Nothing like the director yelling cut because they could see my, uh, sock, if you know what I mean.”
“I’m going to assume it’s not a sock that’s on your foot,” one host said.
“You’d assume correctly.” Sierra nodded with a smile.
“Let’s take a look at that clip, shall we?” one host asked.
“I’m going to keep an eye out for that sock,” the second host said, laughing.
The picture changed to the love scene Rick had spent too many hours watching during filming.
<
br /> With the music added and the editing complete it looked completely different. He swallowed hard and consciously worked to keep the doubts from creeping back into his mind.
Sierra was either with Jamey now or she wasn’t. It didn’t matter because the end result was the same—she wasn’t with Rick.
Oddly, that thought filled him with calm. Maybe because the thought of being left because she had feelings for another man would be easier to swallow than thinking he’d caused the break-up.
There was nothing he could do now or could have done then to change her feelings if she’d fallen in love with Jamey.
It took the responsibility for the cause of the break-up off him if it hadn’t happened because he’d fucked up or because he wasn’t good enough for her. There would be something freeing in that.
There was one problem with his new theory, however. He didn’t see any spark between the two stars in real life. Not in California when he’d been there with them and not now as they sat stiffly on camera next to each other and laughed at silly jokes.
Apparently, this movie was a huge deal, because the interview got not two, but three segments. The hosts threw to a commercial one more time with the promise they’d return and talk more with Sierra and Jamey.
Rick’s torture wasn’t over yet.
“You all right?” Darci asked.
“Yup. Just fine.”
If she heard the lie in his voice she didn’t say so. Instead, Darci stood and headed for the kitchen. “You make coffee yet?”
“Yes. When I got up.”
“Good. I’ll make breakfast. Pancakes and bacon good?” she asked.
“Perfect.” Might as well eat his way through the heartache until it was a socially acceptable time to start drinking.
“And we’re back with Jamey Garret and Sierra Cox. So, Jamey, you got to play a Navy SEAL in this movie.”
“I did. And it was one of the most amazing experiences of my life.”
“We’ve got a clip. Let’s watch.”
The Zodiac flashed onto the screen as it was tossed on the surf with Jamey aboard. The scene cut to the SEALs taking the beach and then the explosion.
Then Jamey was stretched out on the beach as the SEAL medic delivered his two lines, “Look at me! Do not close your eyes, sailor.”
